Ghost of a Memory
by renzie17
Summary: The pain of leaving and taking something of that place (person) with you or leaving and trying to burn all the bridges that you ever built to ease this pain. With every wrong affair, there is a consequence; sometimes these aren't too heavy, but sometimes you just have to take up your cross and face the music. Medieval AU SasuSaku Oneshot


**Author's Note: **Hi! Okay, this is sort of an I-Am-Inspired-Therefore-I-Shall-Write story/fanfic. Haha! So, tah-dah! It's sort of based on Mumford and Son's song _The Ghosts That We Knew _and another song I can't remember. Heehee!

I hope you_—_yes _YOU—_enjoy this!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto.

_**Ghost of a Memory**_

**I.**

She looked exactly like her mother, except for the pitch black that was her hair. Every time he would look at her beautiful face, it was as if he was staring into her mother's viridian eyes. But her hair was of his—almost as if the pink tresses that were her mother's turned to gray and faded to black through the years. The memory of her mother that haunted him was the memory that she left with her—their daughter.

Hikari, she had named her, after the light that would remind him of her, she had said, and after the light that would leave her once she rids of every memory she had of him. She had said in the letter she dropped along with precious Hikari at the palace doorsteps that it was painful to have the thing she had of him away from her; but it was more painful to have a memory of him still with her. As much as she loved Hikari with all her heart, she hated the thought that she was of _him_-flesh and blood, hair and bone. She'd much rather forget the painful memory of him than have it forever with her.

She had said that she loved him—oh, how she loved him!—but it was a selfish love, she had thought.

It wasn't! He wanted to scream at her, it wasn't.

It didn't matter if he had a wife, he had thought, because he loved _her_ and not the former. It didn't matter that he had a family to take care of or a kingdom to reign over. He loved her! He loved her and he hated himself for loving a woman as she—a mistress; a concubine; next to nothing. But none of that mattered to him, he argued. As long as he could hear her voice, touch her face, look into her eyes, and kiss those lips he'd long for almost every night.

As long as he had her he was happy.

'_I'm _the selfish one, Sakura,' he thought, 'but can't we be selfish for once in our lives? Just of ourselves?'

She had argued with him the night she left. She hated what she was doing, but loved the man she hated to love. "You can't love two women at the same time!" she'd yelled. He told her he loved her that night and that he wanted her to stay. Then she cried. He had no idea why she did as he has the density of a rock. She made the decision for him that night. The next morning he woke up to an empty room with nothing but her smell on his sheets. Eight months later he woke up to his adviser, Lord Naruto, shouting at about a baby discovered by the palace guards at the gates with a letter.

**II.**

He knew that the Universe was going to slap him even harder after she leaves. He chose her over the kingdom. He chose her over the royal family. He chose her over the queen.

He remembered the time the queen found out. Sakura had been warning him time and time again about the weight of the secret they carried. Everyone thought she was a mere civilian looking for advice about normal civilian affairs. Little did anyone know that as the queen slept sound in her chambers, expecting the king to be busy with royal duties for the rest of the night, he was in a room at the opposite wing of the palace, rendezvousing with none other than the woman he's had eyes on since the day they'd met.

There was a festival and everyone was invited. He had recently fought with his wife again and was having a drink with the noblemen of the kingdom. It was a free night, which meant that as of that night everyone in the kingdom was, strictly speaking, on equal grounds. There he spotted her dancing around the bonfire as all the other women had been. He pulled her into his arms and guided her into a duo dance.

The rest of the night was forgotten in drunken solace—the kind of tranquility that was hideously temporary. The king refused to believe in impermanence so he scoured the kingdom with zeal until he found her and privately asked her to meet him somewhere at the outskirts of town.

At first she refused to give in to him—she, a woman of virtue, give in to a king's selfish request? Then again, she thought, I, myself, am selfish. So that was the first night they found love. That was the first night of the regret they were now feeling.

They've kept their relationship a secret for more than a year, but like air trapped in a balloon, the truth was bound to come out one way or another.

**III.**

The queen caught them in the library and she could not believe her eyes. She had felt her husband's distance, but she never would have believed that he, a man of very few words or actions, would somehow find time to engage with a mistress! A harlot! A peasant!

But she was not the only woman affected in the process. Sakura, herself, was at an emotional Armageddon. She cried into his chest and blamed herself. "I never should have let this go this far," she said. She talked to him, asked him how he could sleep at night beside the woman he gave his heart to, but not his whole self; asked him how he could tell return her words but not his personal deficiency; begged him to let her (the mistress, the peasant, the third wheel) go.

'Besides,' she had thought, 'he never once told me that he loved me. He just wanted me and not the _me_ me.' She didn't want to be the cause of every single folly he had in his present life. She wanted what was best for him and she knew it wasn't her.

So the next few days she had left the palace to seek advice from the people she trusted the most. She came upon the decision to leave before anything bad happens further and she didn't want to be the cause of any dispute.

But something happened. Something _had_ to happen. Something had to happen to prove that what she had with Sasuke was a mistake.

**IV.**

She started feeling queasy at random moments, craving for all sorts of food and missed her period. All of those led to one most possible answer—she was pregnant.

She was pregnant and she didn't want the father to know. _Of course_ he's the father; she hadn't made love to anyone else. She planned to never will. She knew this would disgrace the whole of the royal family so she kept it a secret for a month. Later she decided to end things with the king before anything else happens.

That was when they fought.

He didn't want her to leave, he argued. He wanted her to stay and live freely with him. He offered her a home, security, and finally the love she deserved but never got to enjoy. How can one enjoy the love your loved one has for you if he never gave it to you in the first place? —or at least never showed openly.

"How can you love two women?" she asked with exclamation. "You can't, Sasuke!"

"But, I love _you_!"

She was taken aback for a second before murmuring, "No, you don't."

"I _do_!" he countered, "And I want you to stay. Please. I know I'm selfish for asking this, but can't we be selfish for once?"

"I've been selfish all my life, Sasuke," she said, her voice cracking, "I don't want to be selfish anymore." She was crying then and he pulled her into his arms. For a long time, they stayed like that until he spoke.

"Then please be selfish for the last time."

The rest was forgotten.

**V.**

He didn't used to know how painful it was to be left with a memory of a person until she had. Their daughter, Hikari, was all he had left of her and as painful as it was to embrace the child and look at her, he had to. He wanted to. She was all he had left of _her_ and he didn't want to let go.

He wasn't ready to let go.

He would never let go and he knew she wouldn't either.

No matter where she was, no matter how far she'd run, no matter how hard she tries to rid of his memory, she'd always have a piece of him with her—a part of his heart. The part that had been left hollow to that day.

**Author's note:** Yay! Hee! Please review and tell me what you think!

**Love from,**

**renzie17**


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